Why do you hate me?
by Little-Clementine
Summary: All human one-shot. Two brief encounter between Dimitri and Rose, one of whom is completely closed off while the other tries to discover the meaning of their actions.
1. Chapter 1

**2011**

"Why do you hate me?"

Dimitri, who's face had previously held nothing but utter boredom, raised an eyebrow at me sardonically. He didn't seem surprised by the question. Obviously. He was Dimitri, nothing seemed to surprise him.

"Oh, you heard me. Why do you hate me?" I repeated.

I shoved all my dog eared Biology worksheets into my book before slamming it shut, crossing my arms and leaning back in the worn chair.

The taping of his pen persisted steadily as he sighed.

"Open your books again, and keep the volume to a minimum. I know its hard to tell the difference, but this is a library, not a football field. We keep quiet here, we don't prance around in mini skirts like sex objects."

I ignored the backhanded jab at my cheerleader status.

"No. We'll continue working _after_ you answer my question, Dimitri. We've been in the same class for what, 8 years now? And I've been nothing but nice to you. I used to want to be your friend so bad. Now, you just piss the fuck out of me. What did I ever do to you?"

He stared into his book, the tapping of his pen becoming a background hum. I want to stop his drumming, but the idea of touching his hand is so intriguing, it scares me. And believe me, nothing scares me.

"See? You won't even meet my eyes. You haven't since second grade!"

At that, his neck snaps up and he stares, intensely, into my eyes.

"Your stubbornness."

His gaze fazes me, my mind becoming light headed. What had he said? How had I never realized what a hypnotizing brown his eyes were?

"What?"

He rolls his eyes, breaking contact, and threw his hands in the air.

"Are you just _that_ dim, Rose? You ask me a question, persistently, then just _forget_? I hate your stubbornness, your rudeness, your supposed wittiness, your bossiness, your immaturity..."

It looks like I made him crack. The Russian accent, buried by years of living in the US, resurfaced as he slapped my book open.

"Now, _please_, do some work so we don't come to class empty handed tomorrow. Again."

I can't say his words didn't hurt. Things he said had always affected me three times as much as anything any other person said. But I wouldn't let it get to me.

Because he was obviously lying.

"Liar, Belikov. Liar, liar, liar. You seem to forget, I look right through you. I have in 2nd Grade, I do now, and I always will."

His eyes, usually a soft, fluffy brown, burned up.

"That's it." He slammed his own book this time, collecting his bag and paper. "I'm asking Ms. Karp for a new lab partner tomorrow."

He stalked off with rigged shoulders.

I tried my luck one last time.

"Why?"

And he did something so un-Dimitri-like, I laughed so loud the librarian shot me an evil look. He had flipped me off.

* * *

**2013**

I didn't realize how pathetic I must look until I heard the door to the girls bathroom open.

And just my luck, it was Dimitri, hovering by the door uncertainly once he saw me.

"Are- I...um, I heard something from in here so..."

His discomfort nearly- _nearly_- made me laugh. This was so out of character for the great and mighty Dimitri Belikov, especially considering he was in a girls toilet.

"Yeah, I'm the girl crying in the bathroom. How cliché." I wiped under my eyes carefully, causing black paint to splotch my hands. I sniffled, hoping to dear God he would hit his head hard enough on his way home so that he wouldn't remember this tomorrow.

"Everyone has their moments," he mutters, rubbing his jaw. I stared at his feet for a while. He didn't leave.

Slowly, hesitantly, he stepped towards me. He slid down the wall next to me, pulling a handkerchief out his pocket and handing it to me.

Now THAT made me laugh.

"You do realize we entered the twenty first century like, thirteen years ago. It's time to act like it too."

My laughing urged a semi smile - a Mona Lisa smile - out of him.

I will admit it caused my heart to flutter... Slightly.

I used his handkerchief, which was now also covering in black smudge. He sat there, not talking, just watching me with patient, guarded eyes as I cried. The heat radiating off him was enough to warm me, slowly sizzling into my system.

"You heard?" I whispered, hoping Dimitri would stay like this, the nice version of him, not the mean one he turns into whenever I'm around. I met his eyes, those warm brown pools. It was like swimming in chocolate.

He nodded, lips parted in thought.

"By now, I think all high schoolers will know."

"Great. By tomorrow elementary students will be gossiping about it over juice boxes."

A few more moments of silence passed.

Then, a lean arms was wrapped around me, securing me to his chest. I was left speechless, closing my eyes to the warmth seeping into me. I felt safe, like nothing could touch me, as if I were in a dream.

Since 2nd Grade, I've had a crush on him. Finally, we were moving along. Even if getting here meant a disgusting rumor being told about me.

"Why do you hate me?" The same question as I've always asked, yet in a much, _much_ softer tone.

A sigh heaved his chest, my head moving along.

"I don't."

I looked up at him accusingly, wishing to never have to leave his arms. The lights lit up his face, turning his tan into gold. Heavenly.

He smiled his strange, little smile again.

"I don't hate you. I... You- well, remember in Grade 2? When all of a sudden I didn't want sit next to you in book circle?"

I actually remember a little too well. He continued.

"I was crushing on you, and I didn't like it. I never really liked... Feelings." I laughed at the look on his face. He was pretty adorable.

"It's true; they're too messy. They ruin people. So talking about them isn't easy for me. But then there is you, and you always expressed everything you are feeling, living it up and never hiding anything. You always want to know how people feel, and you feel so passionately. And that scared me away from you then."

Considering he doesn't talk about this kind of thing often, he was doing pretty well. It came from his heart, and it was as pure as anything you can get from a teenaged boy.

I looked him in the eyes, those guarded walls loosening up. I could see the truth, and I could see so much more I didn't understand. He was a true mystery, who had just unriddled himself to me.

He couldn't seem to stand the silence, looking very insecure.

"So... I don't hate you. I don't think I ever could. But scared of you? Hell yes. But... After all these years I think... I mean, I never admitted it but... I like you. A lot."

And that made my day. I'm pretty sure I lit up, the crush I've have for ages now coming clean. He wouldn't meet my eyes though.

"So...um, yeah."

I giggled at him, earlier tears forgotten.

"Do you wanna go out?" I asked, biting my lip.

Shock was evident on his face. The guy was seriously clueless. I mean, come on, doesn't he realize he's gorgeous inside and out?

"As long as you stop asking me why I hate you, we have a deal." He said, smiling.

"And as long as you keep smiling, deal," then a thought struck me, "Doesn't it matter to you to be seen with me? I mean, um, after the... What they're saying about me."

His grip on me tightened.

"It'll pass. Everyone knows they're just rumors. Besides, even if they were true, they would just make me look even better."

I smacked his chest at that.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys! This story got into my head, and it's just to try and get out of my writers block, so sorry if its a little fantastical... Hope you enjoyed!


	2. Chapter 2

"So. Let me get this straight."

My hands were clammy from the beer I was holding and the fear of being stood up, which looked like a sound possibility at the moment since it was way past the time he promised to come, and from my limited experience as his lab partner, I knew Dimitri Belikov has _never_ come late to anything.

"Dimitri, the guy who has never said a sweet word to you. _That_ guy. All of a sudden... you're going out? And you invited him to _this _party?"

Lissa, my slightly intoxicated – or well, a lightweight drinker – friend couldn't seem to be able to put two and two together. In all honestly, I was still surprised at what happened at lunch too.

"No. The other party." I rolled my eyes at her. I was too nervous to bother with her. She completely ignored me anyway.

"What... Oh my God, I love this song!" I watched in amusement as she made the biggest fool of herself on the dance floor, anxiety slowly ebbing away as the alcohol took effect. You know what? Fuck him. If he didn't want to be here, he could have at least called.

I get jabbed in the side, and get sent straight into the staircase.

"Move, you slut." Two blondes, both fake, sneered at me as they pull down the clingy material they called dresses to cover their asses. _Oh, the hypocrisy._

"Right, that reminds me. Our pimp called, and told me you guys aren't bringing enough money in. Maybe a boob job will help."

My words get lost in the ground-shaking music, and I remember why I didn't want to come tonight. I could feel the stares, the pointing. No one could give me a fucking break. I chugged the rest of my beer.

No way in hell was I going home sober tonight.

I flipped off some horny guy trying to make a pass at me and moved to the dance floor to push a junior away from Lissa, since she started looking uncomfortable. Yet, a gust of wind informed me of the front door opening.

There was Dimitri. He had actually showed up. In tow, he had two of his friends along with him, who looked like they wanted to be anywhere else but here. But he had _actually _shown up, and by the looks of it, he was searching the crowd for me.

Suddenly, I was nervous. Shit, I had never thought of what would actually happen once he came. What do we talk about? I don't know anything about him! Well, I do but he can't know that, or else he'll think I've been stalking him.

_One step at a time Hathaway_. First, I reached Lissa and Mr. I-Grind-Anything-Moving and rip him off of her. He looked pissed off, but once he realized who I was, he blanched.

"Bad luck, asshole. I better not see you trying that on anyone else tonight."

He backs off and Lissa hugs me, as tight as possible in her wobbly state, and gushes in my ear about how good a friend I am and how she should make a better effort and how she dreams she was me. Her regular drunk talk. I got out of her death grip and told her I would get her some water to drink.

Me, avoiding Dimitri? No. Just prolonging the time between which we meet again.

In the kitchen, the pounding music was muffled yet the smell was much worse. Someone had puked in the sink, and smattered glass lay by one of the counters. Thank God I didn't have to clean that up.

Once I found a clean cup and filled it with water, I spilt half of it as I heard a low voice.

"Hey."

"Oh! Um, hey. Try not scaring me next time?" I filled the glass again, keeping my eyes on the ground. What on earth is happening to me?

"Sorry. And sorry I'm late, I got held up." He actually seemed sincere, which made me laugh. I turn around and _damn_, did he look good. It looked like he actually made an effort by typing back his chestnut hair (which looked like something out of one of those hair commercials) and put on a nice sweater.

But the nervosity in his face made my heart melt.

"So, since Lissa has decided drink up all the booze at this party, I'm going to have to give her this. I'll be back in-"

"Let me." His friend, who I didn't know was there – Christopher? - took the drink out of my hand and disappeared out the door.

Dimitri smiled at something.

"What?" I was curious. He rarely smiled. It was the reason people never really talked to him.

"Oh, it's nothing. The guy is just hopeless. You can't even mention Lissa without him wanting to know exactly what she did and where they where and what the atmosphere was like in detail."

"Well, I hope that is exactly how you react to my name. Or that you at least have a shrine in your basement dedicated to me."

"Now I know you stalk me when I'm at home. I also keep photos of you under my pillow if you must know."

And just like that, the conversation flowed.

"I bet you also know my middle name."

"That's the only thing missing from my 'Rose _blank_ Hathaway' folder." He leaned back against the table while I hopped onto the counter. I would have never thought he was so easy to talk to.

"Its Ann. Because my mum really put thought into that one. Even though I'm considering changing it to Sexy. Or fucking. Imagine: Rose _Fucking_ Hathaway." I made a dramatic hand gesture, but he just shook his head in amusement, making me want to run my hands through his hair.

"You are just too much." The _look_ he gives me is too much. It's burning.

Time escaped me as I spent the night with Dimitri and a couple more beers which he disapproved of. The flow of conversation didn't stop, and I had been able to make him full out laugh six times. Yes, I was counting. No, it wasn't weird.

We shifted from room to room, watching as people danced, people made out and people puked. Dimitri, being the annoying gentleman he is, helped them whenever he saw them. But at some point in the night, while we were arguing about whether or not tea or coffee was better (I so won that argument, hands down, even though he won't admit it. Tea rocks.), he collapsed onto a worn armchair and me, slightly tipsy, sat across his lap. My legs dangled off the edge of the chair, revealing a lot of bare skin.

Yet, he hasn't made any effort to touch me, which is frustrating as hell. I have never yearn for someone to touch me, for just a simple touch to the cheek or the leg. The only time he touched me was to pull me into a more comfortable position.

"Wait, you actually _eat_ that in Russia?"

He chuckled and I could feel his breathe he was so close. That was seven laughs. How did he still smell of soap in this sweat drenched room?

"Compared to what fast food is made up of, what we eat is actually healthy."

"You eat fish eggs on pancakes. You're argument is invalid."

He was so close to me. I felt the heat of his body press up against me. I was fighting a loosing battle, but I would not give up.

And I didn't have to. With eyes blazing and parted lips, he reached up and stroked my left cheek with the back of his fingers, causing pleasant goosebumps. I stared back into his eyes, so dark in colour. I took his lingering hand kissed the palm of it, calloused and dry. He was leaning closer, so was I, and-

"ROSE!" I had the biggest cock block of a friend ever.


End file.
